


Waiting Game

by Queerdinary



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: F/F, Poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-22
Updated: 2018-10-22
Packaged: 2019-08-05 18:01:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16372397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queerdinary/pseuds/Queerdinary
Summary: I've been thinking about diving back into writing. Oh, and Seven's in trouble. Ish.





	Waiting Game

“Honestly Seven, why are you behaving this way- What do you want?”

 

_I will tell you- as you seem (-irritably-annoyingly-adoringly) interested in any flash of my humanity._

_  
I want You_

_S p r e a d out_

_beneath me._  
  
_I want you to pass your fingers down my neck, feather light, then curl roughly at the collar of my suit._  
_Collar me._

_I want you to  
Pull me forward, make me ache for your kiss-_

_make me wait._  
  
_I guarantee I am used to waiting._

 _After all, I have learned from you the art of self denial._  
  
_You are waiting for an (idealistic-impossible-ephemeral) appropriate moment to tell me that our chemical compatibility is superior, that we are physiologically compatible on a molecular level._  
_You are waiting to tell me : I love you_  
_You are concerned you will say instead; Fuck me, Seven._

 _You are concerned that I would find either statement offensive- you are afraid I would say;  please. yes._  
_I do not mind, they mean the same to me, from you._  
  
You pace your ready room, refill your mug . I am briefly jealous of the vessel's proximity to your mouth. It seems unfair. Then you stare at me, waiting for my response _._ “Seven?”  
  
“Captain Kathryn Janeway.”  
_You blink, eyes guarded. Steel. Solid, like the plaiting of Voyagers hull._

You are terse when you answer, “ It was rhetorical seven, not an address”

 

“Never the less, I have submitted my answer.”

 

 

You are silent _._  
_you thought you would make a grand gesture,_

_you thought it would be you,Byron, and roses and wine  
A knight from a ballad, a hero; assertive and dashing with your crooked smile. You did not think now, in your cluttered ready room, with the burnt taste of replicator coffee on your tongue, and stale recycled air in your nose._

_You cannot see  that you won me when you replaced the song of The Hive with “yes Captain”_  
  
“You asked 'what do you want'. I answered.”

 

I watch you swallow. The muscles of your throat. Your jaw tenses, and I think I can see you searching for words.  
_Good. Yes._

_Make me_

_wait._

 

**Author's Note:**

> I've been thinking about getting back into writing. Any suggestions or prompts you've been thinking of?  
> ~Q <3


End file.
